“Sitting under a tree, I studied my options. The fall flowers were in full bloom: verbena, goldenrod, chrysanthemum, and a late-blooming rose. The carefully tended city beds around the park held layers of textured evergreen but little color. I set… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share Image
“Here you are, obsessed with romantic language-a language invented for expression between lovers-and you use it to spread animosity.” — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share Image
“I pinched tendrils of periwinkle at the roots until they hung in long, limp strands, and grabbed a dozen bright white spider mums. I… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share Image
“So, what’s your secret?” Renata asked. I squinted my eyes in question, tightened my shoulders. “To staying thin?” she asked. “When you eat like… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share Image
“I studied the way the individual flowers clustered around the single stalk, their sharp points fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Something about the configuration of the petals made me believe that forgiveness should come naturally, but in this family, it hadn't. I thought about the decades of misunderstandings, from the yellow rose to the fire, the thwarted attempts… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
“I had been loyal to nothing except the language of flowers. If I started lying about it, there would be nothing in my life… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share Image
“some believe lily of the valley brings a return of happiness.” — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share Image
“Do you really think you’re the only human being alive who is unforgivably flawed? Who’s been hurt almost to the point of breaking?” — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share Image
“Have you ever given anyone a red rose?" Grant asked. I looked at him as if he was trying to force-feed me foxglove. "Moss rose? Myrtle? Pink?" he pressed. "Confession of love? Love? Pure love?" I asked, to make sure we shared the same definitions. He nodded. "No, no, and no." I picked a pale blush-colored bud and shredded the… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
“Elizabeth went from stand to stand as if I wasn't there, exchanging cash for heavy bags of produce: pink-and-white-striped beans, tan-colored pumpkins with long necks, purple potatoes mixed with yellow and red. When she was busy paying for a bag of nectarines, I stole a green grape off an overflowing with my teeth. "Please!" exclaimed a short, bearded man I… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
She was perfect. I knew this the moment she emerged from my body, white and wet and wailing. Beyond the requisite ten fingers and ten toes, the beating heart, the lungs inhaling and exhaling oxygen, my daughter knew how to scream. She knew how to make herself heard. She knew how to reach out and latch on. She knew what… — Vanessa Diffenbaugh Copy Share
